


day nine

by julek



Series: Winterfest 2020 [9]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Rimming, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27985278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julek/pseuds/julek
Summary: Geralt is creative when it comes to waking Jaskier up.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Winterfest 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041318
Comments: 7
Kudos: 197





	day nine

When Jaskier wakes up, his side is uncharacteristically occupied — he’s used to waking up alone, as Geralt’s habits lead him to rise with the sun, something the bard’s not so fond of. He frowns, eyes still closed, as he pats down the other side of the bed, where he’s met with the very warm chest of his Witcher. He smiles.

“Time ‘s it?” he yawns.

Geralt wraps an arm around his middle. “Midnight,” he whispers. “We’ll be snowed in tomorrow. The storm’s picking up.”

Jaskier cracks one eye open and squints at the window, where a flurry of snow is unhurriedly falling behind the drawn back curtains. It’s still early for a snowstorm, he thinks, but he can’t really complain when it means that, at least for a day, he’ll have his Witcher all to himself, to hold and pamper and kiss. He hums contentedly.

“Wake me at a reasonable hour, then,” he mumbles sleepily. “None of that crack-of-dawn, Witcher nonsense.” 

Geralt huffs a laugh against his hair, then presses a kiss to the shell of his ear. “Alright.”

This time, Jaskier wakes up slowly, enveloped in a soft warmth he can’t quite place. The feathery ends of his dreams are still holding onto him, sending tingles down his spine, and his muscles feel pleasantly heavy with sleep. He opens his eyes and blinks, lazily presses his cheek against the pillow as the heat pining him down grows more intense. A choked off moan escapes his lips as he looks behind him, and takes the scene in.

He’s laying on his stomach, the creamy soft blankets around him, and Geralt’s sucking a bruise on the inside of his thigh, his fingers running up and down Jaskier’s spine. He moves up, pressing small kisses on Jaskier’s skin as he reaches his cleft — he spreads him with his hands, and without much preamble, guides his tongue down in a clean line from his tailbone to his perineum.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jaskier pants into the pillow, and pushes his left thigh up, exposing himself.

He’s already slick with saliva as Geralt languidly circles his hole with his tongue, gently sucking on his rim at a maddening pace that makes Jaskier whine a high note, then loudly groan as he presses his tongue inside.

“Ohh,” he groans, his knuckles white as he fists the sheets in a feeble attempt to stave off his hunger a while longer. 

Geralt laps at his hole like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, humming as he meets Jaskier’s eyes, and _fuck_ , isn’t that the perfect image — his gaze half-lidded as he pushes his tongue inside again, fucking into him in shallow thrusts, and Jaskier can’t help but clench around him, enveloped in that wet heat that makes his insides thrum with desire. His cock is impossibly hard and rutting on the sheets, already slick with precome, and Geralt sucks down hard before pressing two fingers into Jaskier, who then loses the ability to string together a coherent sentence.

“Fuck, _yes,_ that’s— fuck,” he cries, feeling that white-hot pleasure building up, and then Geralt’s fucking into him and mouthing at his balls, and that’s the end of it. 

He comes with a broken moan, his back arching off the mattress as he ruts forward and rocks back into Geralt’s tongue, chasing his pleasure both ways, and he feels entirely blissed out and far too gone as Geralt’s unrelenting pace gives out and he kisses the small of his back.

“What a wake-up call,” he murmurs into the pillow. Geralt crawls up beside him, pressing hot kisses on his bare shoulders. Jaskier turns around, burying his face in Geralt’s neck, simply enjoying the way his chest rises and falls, his medallion glinting in the soft morning light.

“Hi,” Geralt says with a smile, then presses a kiss to Jaskier’s mouth.

“Hi, yourself.” Jaskier moves to tangle their legs together, then feels Geralt press into his hip, still hard. “Oh.”

His hand slowly trails down Geralt’s stomach, ignoring the Witcher’s groans as he grazes his cock. “And what would you like?”

Geralt groans, pressing his eyes shut as Jaskier gingerly touches him, his fingers barely there, his thumb caressing the slit where a bead of precome sits.

“Wanna fuck your thighs.”

Jaskier moans as he starts to stroke Geralt’s cock in earnest. “Fuck, Geralt.”

He lays on his side and his thighs fall open as he pulls Geralt closer to him, wrapping an arm around his back, and presses open-mouthed kisses to his neck, moving down to his collarbone and the hollow of his throat as Geralt ruts against him. His cock is hard and leaking against his thighs, and Jaskier pushes his silver hair back, and _oh_ , all he wants is to remember the way he looks, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes squeezed shut as he pants against Jaskier’s neck.

“That’s so good, love,” he whispers, and Geralt lets out a loud moan as Jaskier squeezes his thighs around his cock, his thrusts becoming urgent and less coordinated. “Are you gonna come?” Geralt nods feverishly. “Come for me.”

Geralt groans as he comes over Jaskier’s stomach and thighs, and Jaskier takes him in hand and jerks him through it. He lets go when he feels Geralt whimper, and wraps him in his arms as he comes down from it.

They lie in comfortable silence for a while, Jaskier lacing and unlacing their hands together. He feels warm and sated and loved as Geralt presses a kiss to his stomach, resting his head on his ribs.

“Hmm,” Geralt rumbles against his chest when Jaskier’s fingers tangle in his hair, rubbing circles into his scalp. “Feels nice.”

Jaskier smiles and looks up at the window, nothing but pure white as the wind howls outside. 

“That was a lovely way to wake up, dear.” He drops a kiss on Geralt’s hair. “It’s such a shame the storm’s still raging, you won’t be able to go hunting with Vesemir.”

“Or train,” Geralt reminds him.

“Or train, yes,” he says, sorrowfully. “What a shame. No, there’s nothing for it, you’ll probably have to stay here all day. Nothing to do.”

“Hmm.”

“No point in going out in this cold, no— I’ll have to keep you warm, can’t have my Witcher freeze to death.”

“Yeah?” Geralt lifts his head, a smirk curling on his lips. “And how exactly are you planning on doing that?”

“Oh,” Jaskier licks his lips. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow this series on [tumblr](http://julek.tumblr.com/tagged/winter%20prompts)!


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